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slasherstories123 · 1 year

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hi hi!! can i pls have vincent sinclair, jason voorhees, and brahms heelshire headcanons where their gender neutral s/o likes to draw? and also asks to draw them without their masks? thanks!!

Vincent, Jason, and Brahms with a S/O who loves to draw

Tagslist: @dootys @callmemeelah @fluffy-little-demon @mehidktbh @slash3rl0v3r @the-anxious-youth @beanbagbitch @mrs-heelshire @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better @smenny @oneofvincentscandles @sleepypersonblog @alexxavicry @vexeliers-breakroom @naxxsstuff @beel-mcburger @pink-apollo @charliedawn @emychan @bunnysenpai31 @sadskies @slasherscrybaby @bl-rrryface @l0sercat @cherry-lovr

Vincent Sinclair

Congratulations, you two are now drawing buddies!

Vincent always wanted someone to share his art with, he was always glad that you came to Ambrose so that you both can express your art skills

He’d definitely give you drawing suggestions if you’re stuck in art block or can’t think of anything to draw in general

Even though he have his mask on you can tell that he’s smiling each time you show him a new drawing that you’re proud off

Vincent loves to look through your sketch books (with your permission of course) just to see the type of art style you have or the stuff you’re interested in

If you ever ask him could you draw him with his mask off he’d be skeptical but after a while he did.

Once he saw the drawing he nearly cried at how well you drew him and hung it up in his art gallery for him to cherish

Jason Voorhees

Jason loves your art! It’s better than seeing nature everyday and random victims

He will literally sit there and watch you draw from start to finish, he’d only leave if he has to deal with trespassers.

He’d get happy each time you finish your drawing so he can take a look at the finished product

If you tried to teach Jason how to draw the best thing you’re gonna get is a stick figure of you two together with a horribly drawn lake in the background and will give it to you like a little kid.

At least give him an A for effort 😭

When you ask to draw him with his mask off he wouldn’t want to do it, which was okay with you since you didn’t want to push his boundaries

When he warmed up to the idea, he’d grab your sketchbook and pencil while holding it out to you. Once you drew him he’ll put it up somewhere in the cabin so that he can always remember it.

Brahms Heelshire

He’d be the most energetic about it unlike the other two.

Just like Jason, he’d watch you draw until you finish it, sometimes he’d sit with you and color with you while you draw.

If there’s a drawing you’re not proud with you’d just give it to Brahms for him to color

You definitely drew the painting of him and his parents, when he saw it he kept it and put it up in his room.

He’d try to draw but it would just end up in weird squiggly lines and would get upset and would give up trying which would sometimes make you laugh.

Brahms would love for you to draw him, but with the mask off it would take a lot for him to do it since he dosen’t like his face. Even though he’s scared to do it, just you reassuring him will make him open up at some point

He’d stay still while you draw him and would sometimes get nervous thinking that he’d be too “ugly” to draw, and to that you’d gently hit him on the head with the pencil each time he’d call himself that. Once he saw the drawing he’d thank you over and over again.

#Vincent Sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair fluff #vincent sinclair headcanons #Jason Voorhees #jason voorhees x reader #jason voorhees fluff #jason voorhees headcannons #Brahms heelshire #brahms heelshire x reader #brahms heelshire fluff #brahms heelshire headcanons #slashers x reader #slashers #slasher fluff #slasher headcanons #slasher writing

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slxsherwriter · 18 days

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I love your works on Rusty Nail and it makes me love him more!

If you're free, can you do a fic where you're on a road trip with your son (Any name). Your ex-husband left you with another woman and you packed a few stuff to head to your friend's house to stay.

Your son is quiet and mostly plays on his side with toy trucks since he has a big interest for them. You decided to try and get his attention by telling him about the CB radio and decided to pretend you're talking to a truck driver.

That's when you accidentally dialled Rusty. You apologized, but your son got interested and wanted to try the radio. You ask Rusty if he can play along with your kid for a moment and he agreed.

Your son then began asking a few questions about trucks and truck drivers to Rusty and he replied back. After a while, your son fell asleep and you thanked him, saying that the kid's never been this chattery and curious before. You and Rusty talk for a moment, with you telling why you're on a roadtrip with your kid and where's the dad.

Finally, you two said goodbye and you hung up, heading near to your friend's hometown.

Meanwhile, Rusty looks at his front view mirror and see the tied up dad in a crate, trying to call out to you by your name. Rusty smirked, "So that's her name huh? Cute~"

Sorry if it's too long!

Hello there, anon! First of all, thank you so much for your kind words. He is definitely an under-served and underappreciated character. Secondly, thank you for my first request! I'm so sorry it's taken a bit since it came when I was MIA from the site. Hopefully, you enjoy.

Breathe. In and out. A steady rhythm and something to focus on so that you wouldn't lose your composure. Breaking down in front of your son was not an option. Your own feelings about everything that had happened over the last near ten hours didn't matter. All that mattered was getting your boy bundled up and buckled up in his car seat so you could leave. Did you know exactly where you were heading? Not one hundred percent. An old college friend out to the northwest was willing to house you for a few days whIle you figured it out. An option you were beyond grateful to have.

“All right, buddy.” You gave Michael a smile as he looked up at you, gripping at the toy truck and the stuffed dinosaur that occupied the car seat with him. Reaching out, you lightly brushed some of his hair back from his forehead. “Are you ready to have some fun and go on a trip?” He nodded, giving a small smile, feet kicking lightly from where he was settled in. The smile felt more genuine this time, and you couldn't help but feel another swell of love for him. Assuring him that it would be a long trip but that you were going to have a lot of fun where you were going, you made sure one last time that everything was buckled before getting into the driver seat.

Bag of drinks and snacks for him in the passenger seat beside you. Check. Cell and cell charger. Check. Last of the bags of what little you could take stuffed into the trunk? Check. There was nothing left for you at the house. Your stomach churned with the thoughts of the custody battle that was likely to come, but that was a future problem. Your ex was too vindictive, clearly. Whether he actually wanted your son or not, he would likely bring you to court over it all.

Starting off, you watched the last twelve years of your life slip away in the rear view mirror until it was completely gone from sight. You had been blindsided when your husband had announced that he wanted a divorce and that he was having an affair. Shell-shocked. It had rocked your entire world. Everything had seemed fine. There hadn't been any indicators that he had been that unhappy or that he had been with anyone else. Your skin had crawled, knowing he had touched you the night before. Fighting was not something that had a place in your relationship ever before, but the situation had devolved into just that, with him following you around screaming. It was a side of him that you had never seen and one that you certainly didn't like. It had been slapdash from there to get what you could and gather up everything that you needed to bring Michael with you. The one person that perhaps your husband should have been more concerned with but couldn't seem to care less about as you packed. Finding a place to go was a little harder. Your husband and his family were the only family that you had left.

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you kept checking your rear view, alternating between checking on your son in the backseat and making sure you weren't followed. Perhaps it was a little paranoid, but after everything that had happened, it wasn't out of the realm of possibility. As much as you would have liked to think that wasn't the case.

Michael was incredibly well-behaved, as he often was, as you crossed state lines finally. You had stopped twice for a bathroom break and had provided snacks. There were still a lot of miles to cover and hours left in the car before you reached your destination. He wouldn't stay entertained the entire time. So, you had to come up with something. Songs only went so far, and when that failed, you decided to play around with the old CB radio. There wasn't any intent to call anyone or actually use it. Just make a show for your son.

“Hey, Michael,” you started and quickly got the four year olds attention. “Guess what?”

“What?”

“We can talk to some truck drivers on this radio. What do you think about that? Is that something that you wanna do?” You could hear his feet hitting the seat, a sure sign of excitement.

“Really?”

“Yep, really. This is the sort of radio that is kinda like a phone. Every truck driver has one in their truck. It's how they can talk to one another.” You picked up the handle on the mic and made a show as if you were going to call out on the radio, but instead of pressing the button, you just spoke into the mic so it didn't go out over the radio. “Hello. Is there anyone out there who can talk?” Of course, no one would respond, but your son didn't know that. He was leaning as far forward as his car seat would allow him, eyes wide, and hands clutching tightly at his toy truck.

“Can you….can you try again?” How were you supposed to say no to such a request? This time, you didn't realize that the button was depressed enough that your voice was actually heard over the radio.

“Don't know the sound of your voice.” The voice that rumbled through the CB nearly made you jump, and you could hear your son gasp and clap in excitement. Well, shit. Clearing your throat, you realized that you would need to say something in return and be polite. The man was likely busy.

“Well, uh, I'm not someone who uses the radio all that often….I’m sorry if I'm bothering you.”

“Nah, you ain't bothering me none. Nice to have someone to talk to on a long drive.”

“Can we ask him about his truck?”

“If you really don't mind…” You paused for a second, glancing back at your son before giving in. “My son and I are on a road trip. And he loves trucks. He wants to be a truck driver when he gets older. Would you mind if he asked you some questions?” God, you hoped he wouldn't mind indulging your boy about a few things. Otherwise, this could turn out terribly. Things were already going to be a little rough by the time you got to your destination.

There was a few seconds of silence before the voice finally sounded out again. He sounded a bit amused, thankfully.

“Yeah, why not. Bet he's got some good questions.” For the first time all day, you felt some relief and just a hint of happiness. As much as you tried to shield Michael from everything, even at four, he could tell something was wrong. You pulled over to the side of the road for a moment so you could show your son how to use the mic for the CB.

“Okay, Mike. The truck driver is gonna talk to you, okay? When you want to ask him a question, you press this button and speak into this. But you gotta make sure to let go of the button because you won't be able to hear him otherwise. Okay?” You handed over the mic and watched as he looked at it for a moment before pressing the button.

“Hello, Mr. Truck Driver.” You had to suppress a small laugh. He was always polite, something that made you thankful. There was a pause, and you almost reminded him to let go of the button before the deep rumble of the man came back through.

“Evening little man. What's your name?”

“Michael.”

“Well, Michael, you can call me Rusty. I hear you got some questions for me.” You couldn't have been more grateful for the man on the other end of the line. He didn't need to show such kindness to your son. A small light in an otherwise dark day.

“What kinda truck do you drive? What color is it? Can you sleep in it?” The questions started going rapid fire. Before you could tell him to slow down, he stopped so that Rusty could answer.

And that was how the next hour and a half went. Michael was far more engaged and eager than you had seen him almost ever. It certainly went on far longer than you anticipated. You thought that it would peter out after about fifteen minutes, but the naturally shy boy seemed to find his stride talking over the CB and getting all his questions answered. Rusty, for his part, answered back with not over enthusiasm but a genuine enjoyment of having to answer the questions.

You found yourself glancing back when there seemed to be a lull.

“Still there, little man?” Michael was passed out, head hanging against the car seat. Laughing softly, you reached back for the cord to the mic and gently pulled it forward so as to not wake him.

“He fell asleep,” you offered back. “I really can't thank you enough for what you just did. I know it's probably the last thing that you wanted to do. That's the most animated I think I've ever seen him, so he really enjoyed himself.”

“Nah, nothing you gotta thank me for. It's nice to have something to focus on other than the road after a couple of hours.” There was a little untwisting of the guilt that you had felt in your gut when he confirmed that he genuinely hadn't minded. “You need anything, you can find me on this channel. Gonna take a guess and say it's just the two of you on the road.” The comment should have sent off warning bells but he had just spoken to your son for an hour and half, with you being the only adult he had contact with, so it was a fairly well educated guess.

“Yeah, it's just us. Thank you, really. Your kindness was a bright spot in the day. We thankfully only have about another hour to go before we are safe and sound.”

“Good. You get to where you are going safely. Roads can be dangerous this time of night.”

“You're a good man, Rusty. Thank you. I'll find a way to repay your kindness.”

“Ain’ anything to worry about. You focus on your boy.” The radio went silent after that, but it felt like a good ending to the conversation. Smiling to yourself, you felt a bit lighter as you finished the drive to your friends house. As much pain as you were feeling, you were granted the opportunity to remember that there were good things in this life thanks to the man on the other side of the radio.

Rusty chuckled to himself and glanced behind the seat to where the man was tied up on the floor.

“Boy, you must have really done a number on her. She didn't even bother mentioning you.” Amusement tinged the words. “I would say I'm doing her a favor by getting rid of you. Better for that boy not to know his father at all. He'll forget you soon enough.” He lit a cigarette and turned his attention back to the road, thinking of just how he could work out one of those chance run-ins with the woman and her son. The whimpers and pleas of the man just cemented those thoughts. It wouldn't be hard to get where she was heading from her husband in the back. The truck sped up through the darkness of the night, a new intent hanging heavy.

#slasher writing #slasher fic #slasher x you #slasher x reader #horror writing #rusty nail x reader #rusty nail joyride #rusty nail #slasher request #writing requests #joyride fic #rusty nail fic

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rottnzomb · 2 years

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He was so funny for this

#micheal myers #halloween #slashers #slasher x reader #slasher fandom #halloween 1978 #jason voorhees #freddy krueger #slasher art #slasher writing

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chronic-boogara · 2 years

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𝚂𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜: 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚜/𝚘 𝟷

i love the thought of big bad murder men being baby. and after all the angsty ones i need something to repair my heart. anyways enjoy some fluffy boys

find part 2 right here

jason vorhees

•oh he loves being treated like this! please don’t stop y/n. call him a good boy and help him clean his mask after a particularly brutal night.

•give the baby words of affirmation. hw loves it when you call him your good boy or praise him for doing something correctly. give him kisses and hugs are a reward

•you will never relplce the special place in jason’s heart that he has for pamela but he loves you almost as much. you have your own place in his still heart.

•it really reminds him of when he was a child and it gives him a bittersweet feeling. he’s just glad to have someone who cares for him like pamela did , it gives him that feeling of being human again.

•gets really scared during thunderstorms so you’ll have to hold him through the night. the loud noises make him jittery. it’s no different than every night, he loves to lay on your chest and relax.

•will come to you with injuries. he doesn’t really need you to fix it he just likes it better when you do it. kiss it better when you’re done of course.

•picks flowers and brings dead animals to you as gifts. you convince him to leave the animals outside but the flowers are a sweet gesture

•he feels safe enough to take his mask off around you ! he wants to feel it when you kiss his face

michael myers

•he starts out as cold and indifferent to the entire idea , but he cannot resist being held after a rough night

•wants nothing more than someone to care for him. his childhood wasn’t exactly easy so you being there for him and not resting him like a monster is honestly the best thing in the world for him

•loves it when you cook for him!! just small meals it doesn’t even need to be anything too fancy. the way to this man’s heart is through his stomach. and if you bake don’t plan on having it in the house very long because he will eat them all.

•since he has a major sweet tooth you will probably have to scold him when he has too much sugar

•”michael ! what did i say about eating the entire batch of cookies in one go ? you have to leave some for later or else you’ll get sick”.

•you’ll have to brush his hair and bathe him once in a while since he refuses to do so on his own. he will put up a fight at first but with enough convincing he’ll give in. your hands are so much more gentle than his , he just loves the feeling

•ask him to take off his mask and he will. not for long but he will do it for you. don’t touch him though , he doesn’t like that

•when he’s in a mood he will follow you around everywhere with your hand in his. it makes him feel important protecting someone

thomas hewitt

•yes yes yes. thomas is so into it , he will love you a million times more if that’s even possible

•having someone who will stand up to hoyt when he’s too scared to do so is such a plus. any time he tries to cut slick with thomas you butt in and air him out. ever since you’ve come around he’s a lot quieter

•touch his face please! he will lean into your touch just like a puppy. it’s a good way to get him to calm down after an episode

•he is such a sucker for praise. tell him his mask looks stunning or the patch work on the blankets is exquisite and his heart will just melt. having someone actually appreciate him is a welcome feeling

•doesn’t like to worry you with wounds and things so he will usually try to hide them away from you. when you find out he’ll feel so bad. seeing the worry in your eyes is heartbreaking.

•lays between your thighs a lot. it’s how he prefers to get comfortable before nap time.

•will do his best to make sure any of the harder chores do not go to you. he doesn’t want to see you work harder than you already do

bubba sawyer

•he needs a motherly touch in his life so of course he’s into it. living with a bunch of men can be hard sometimes

•picks lots of flowers for you and makes the cutest bouquets out of them. lots of gift giving (just like the other nonverbal slashers). he always feels so happy when he sees you wearing a necklace he made you

•makes you masks as well !!! don’t worry bubba won’t be offended if you don’t want to wear it , he gets that his lifestyle is not for everyone. but if you do happen to wear it oh my god he will melt.

•when he’s hurt you’re the first person he goes to. your hands are so much gentler than the ones of his or his brothers. just like jason he’s going to want you to kiss it better

•he finds your voice soothing. read to him during bed time or just talk. he loves hearing you ramble on about things you’re passionate about

•good night kisses are a must in this household.

vincent sinclair

•he is now putty in your hands. your wish is his command

•he’s going to want you to stay with him in his special space. he’ll show you his art throughout the day, sketch you and just sort of vibe with you. your presence is just calming for him it helps him stay in the right headspace

•little spoon! he loves it when you hold him in your arms. let him lay his head on your chest so he can hear your heartbeat and he’s happy

•he has a lot of trouble maintaining his hair some days so of course he’s going to ask you for help. wash it , comb it , braid it do whatever you’re want vince is happy either way

•compliment his art!!! he feels his heart burst with pride when you tell him how amazing his skills are.

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bluekuu · 4 months

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I had this dream of The Collector💚 I wanted to write story of it

Asa Emory x reader

"Welcome home, my dragonfly."

Sunlight shone from behind the curtains creating a soft yellow glow on the corrido's wall. The rays made shadow boxed incest to shine on their true colors. Most of them were beetles, but here and there where butterflies with most vibrant colors you haven't ever seen. You recognize couple of them, but rest was unknown. Still all of them were admirable.

You did woke up inside the red box, it wasn't locked so you let yourself out of there. He may have done that on purpose. The box was placed in the middle of the living room so you could take a good look of Asa's home. Everything was so organize, tidy. He had lot of green plant and seemingly loved vintage. The house was homely and comforting, better than the cold abandoned hotel. You felt bad for those other who have to be there, alone in dark. You thought you would have been one of them, but you weren't. When thinking all of it the collector, (before you learned his real name) he didn't never really hurt you. He only kept you inside that box, checked you now and then, brining you food and clothes. Now that feels like eternity. Asa let you out of the box in two weeks and toke you to the hotel's library, showing all the books you could read and where to spend your time, of course under his watchful eye. Some reason you are special to him.

The headache you had at the beginning was starting to get you dizzy and your vision blurry. Any memories of leaving the hotel wasn't on your mind, but one faint memory of the needle touching on your necks skin, before you blacked out . You reached your left hand on the wall next to you, taking support on it. You closed your eyes to ground yourself. Feeling of your own heart bounding calmly inside of your rib-cage soothed you. Warmth in your hands made them to tingle. Everything was quiet and still, song of the bird outside made your eyes to open. Then you felt the floor shift under you of someone else weight than your. Large hands creeped around of your neck behind you. They gave your neck a light squeeze not meaning to hurt, but more to show possessive over you, he loved to do that.

"Little cricket let themselves out of the box, without the permission..."

His hot breath hits your neck making chills run down on you spine. Asa knows that made you shiver and melt in his arms. Teasing was his way to show affection and he loved the reactions he could get out of you. His thumb draws a circle on you neck and he could feel how you began to lean on his chest. But before you could say anything he pushes you against on the wall. Making gasp escape of your mouth. Asa's hands moved to your face, cupping your cheeks gently. Hot wave rises to you face, burning like pins and needles were under your skin.

Avoiding his intense gaze was challenging to maintain, twain of black shining orbs looking right at you, seeing you. It was unnerving, but the same time you loved it. How the simplest things Asa did, made a butterflies fly in your stomach. The grip he hold your face, forcing the eye contact, not letting you get away on this time. Asa knows you look at him secretly, when you think he won't noticed, he do. Admiring him whatever his working on at the time, how his unique eyes shine when the light reflect on them.

Corners of his lips rises to a grin, and that made you realize you have had look at his lips for too long. "Do a bug want something?" Asa lean closer to you, watching closely the tiniest reactions and expressions what appeared on your face.

"I...I want you to...." the rest of the words get stuck in your dry throat, becoming a inaudible mumble. Asa's humorous laugh embarrassed you, but it faded away quickly when his lips pressed of your forehead, giving it a soft kiss. When his gaze returned to you, the courage grew in you to press your own lips against his. That took him by surprise, he would never think you would be brave enough to kiss him, but regardless that was enjoyable, it was challenge.

Asa steadied his hand behind you neck, one supporting your lower back. He had a control. Yours kiss was sweet, but he's was full of possessiveness. Asa was going to take everything of this moment. His grip around you got tighter, while his kiss deepened. A moan left your mouth, you hand clenched on his black shirt like you life depend on it. If you were honest, you have dreamt of this for so long. Times you could have been like this with Asa, was only when he wasn't busy. When you rested you head on his lap while he stroked your head or when he give you a soft kiss on forehead before he leaves.

The broke of the kiss left you breathless, lack of the oxygen almost made you to faint, Asa other hand seems unbothered lack of it. His hand stroked your cheek, eyes gazing you dearly. He wasn't sure if you could noticed it, but at the fist time he hasn't any walls around you, he was completely relaxed. No dangers, no traps that could hurt you, or his victims who would use you as escape plan. No one could ever take his precious thing away.

"Do I have to go to hotel again?" Worry in your voice waked Asa back to reality. "If you absolutely miss that place, we can go back" He was tried to sound serious, but you can tell tone of his voice he was joking "No. I want to stay here with you."

Asa smiled at your response "Welcome home, my dragonfly."

#asa emory x reader #slasher film #the collector (2009)#my writing #the collector x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x s/o #slasher writing #slasher imagines #slashers #slasher fandom #slasher lover #slasher films #slasher fluff #the collection 2012 #the collector #asa emory #writers on tumblr #slasher headcanons

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slasher-hoe · 2 years

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saw your depictions on brahms and i love them !! Was wondering about brahms with a reader who talks to themself out loud a lot? like the most weirdest thoughts just running from their mouth : " just remembered that the ocean is probably filled with buckets of whale sperm -- oh, wonder what to cook for dinner 🤭 " or smth like that. thank you and take your time 💐

Ask and you shall receive.

Brahms with a reader who talks with/to themself

At first he thinks you're talking to someone in the mansion, which did throw him off because he never heard anyone enter through the old door. He sneaks to your location, and checks who might be with you through a peephole he made in the wall.

When he sees that there's no one there, he wonders what you were even talking about. So he decides to get closer.

You were talking about weird things like whale sperm? People saying "heads up" when you should duck? What?????

The moment you turn around, he's right there making you jump out of your skin. He tilts his head slightly at your reaction. After you scold him for scaring the life out of you, you ask him what he needs.

"You were talking, I thought someone was here."

"Oh, no. I just talk to myself rather often."

That answer made Brahms think. He never heard you talking to yourself before, even though you've already been taking care living with him for quite a while.

A few weeks later he has already listened to a few of your self talks he also thinks about the stuff you say.

"If you start counting from zero your lips won't touch until you reach 1 million."

What?? Maybe he actually tried it. Maybe he didn't. You will never know.

"Taking off your glasses to focus on thinking is the human version of lowering graphics to increase speed."

You shouldn't have said that, now he will annoy you for the next few days.

If you have glasses, he'll ask you a stupid/hard question just to see you take off your glasses and see you submit to his either stupid/heart question.

"If someone else has an awkward moment, I'll forget about it almost immediately. But if I have an awkward moment, I think about it constantly for years."

Okay, this one has a rather cuddly or naughty outcome.

Either he'll make sure that you only think about him by cuddling with you, talking to you etc.

Or he'll bring you to the bedroom, and make you think of something completely else.

#slashers #slasher x you #slashers x you #brahms heelshire #brahms #brahms x reader #brahms heelsire x reader #slasher imagines #slashers x reader #slasher community #slasher writing #slasher x reader #brahms x you #brahms x y/n

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maveras-posts · 10 months

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🖤ART 🤍✨HEADCANONS✨

Art the Clown General Tingz:

Art is c h a o t i c to say the least

He sometimes is manic and does some questionable things (he’s in a silly goofy mood)

Some nights he just stays up and practices his ✨MaKeUp✨ (May or may not listen to Britney Spears while doing it😭✋)

CLEAN YA MAKEUP BruShEs ART—

Art is also a Barb ( I’ve walked into some dance routines 😂✋)

Also ATTITUDE 🙄🤌

IS IT ME? AM I THE DrAmA?—YES my dear Art YES💅

Actually a big Teddy Bear if you can get him to warm up to you (Clingy VERY clingy)

Also LOVES the ✨TEA✨ he’s that gay bestie you tell everything to (Careful tho, ✨HE WONT HESITATE✨ to put a Bitch 6 FEET DEEP🙄✋)

Also loves cotton candy and ANYTHING flavored like it (Blood gotta be made from cotton candy syrup)

Also watch him he ✨NiBblEs✨ on arms and toes— ART DAFUQ. Art BIT ME— (ya know sometimes violence is the answer🙄💅)

Idk how to describe it but he smells like vanilla, blood and ✨DeViL’s LeTtuCe✨

Also LOVES Insane Clown Posse (Art is an insane clown and it feels nice to be represented)

He Shoplifts A LOT(EVERYTHING he owns is ✨StOleN✨)

Also the type of guy to be in Walmart at 3AM riding a bike or riding a shopping cart (The workers know him they leave him be)

Also has candy on him at all times (HE LOVES the ✨SoUr CaNDy✨)

Tbh one of my my favorites cause he is just fucking batshit crazy (Art is my homie for real)

So…I watched both the Terrifiers and I must say… I LOVED IT— tbh these movies are very slept on and forgotten especially our mans of the hour/ post whatevs… ART THE MUTHAFUCKIN CLOWNN— Idk why but instantly when he entered the diner I fell in LOVE. Lmfao I kinda knew he would just be CHAOTIC (I was right) he’s just such a lil shit and he ✨SLAYS✨ (literally and figuratively) so I cooked up these headcanons, don’t worry he confirmed and denied…

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mlmxreader · 6 months

Text

Just a Bad Dream | Tom Hanniger x m!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Rest your head, here's a lullaby

- Male reader with Tom Hanniger ❞

: ̗̀➛ Tom has a nightmare, at least, he hopes that was what happened.

: ̗̀➛ mild injury, blood, swearing, threats of violence, mentions of murder, psychological abuse (manipulation, gaslighting, etc)

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

"Rest your head, here's a lullaby."

Those were the last words you had spoken to Tom before he had drifted off to sleep. It had taken him so long to get over the events of what had happened in his hometown on Valentine's Day; being manipulated and gaslighted by Axel into believing that he was a killer. False memories planted in his head, purposefully attacking his delusions to make it even worse for him.

Yet you had stood firmly by him, you were the only one who didn't believe that Tom was a killer; like everybody else in the world, Tom was capable of it if pushed far enough - but he wasn't a serial killer by any means, and he wasn't guilty for what had happened at all.

You stood by his side every moment, drove him to the psychiatrist's office, helped him out as much as you could when he wanted reality checks and for you to double check things for him to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating.

Nobody else had ever done such a thing for him.

A new town, a fresh start; he did what he did best, he worked in the mines. It was long hours, but he enjoyed it there and he made a fair few good friends.

Now he was all alone. Wandering around an old and worn down hospital that looked like it had not been used for at least seventy or so years.

He called and called, but nothing answered; he searched and scoured every room, fighting cobwebs and dust and rodent droppings to find something, anything that would give him a clue as to where he was and why. But he couldn't find anything.

However, just as he prepared to head down a particularly dull and dark green corridor, he saw someone; a man hunched over a mop bucket, squeezing water out of a long handled mop. He wore a red and green striped jumper, dark brown trousers and matching boots, and a dark brown fedora just to stop it all off.

Relieved, Tom let out a long sigh.

"Oh, thank fuck - hey! Hey, Mister!"

The cleaner turned to him, and waved with a hand that looked like it had knives on the end of it, but surely it was just protective gloves.

Tom didn't think so much of it as he took a few steps forward and gently tapped the man on the back.

"Am I glad I found you!"

The man stood up, glaring up at Tom with piercing light eyes; his skin was burned, stretched and scabbed all over his face and neck. He offered Tom a toothy grin. "I have an axe to grind with you, kid."

Tom furrowed his brows as he took a step back. "Huh?"

"You stole my thunder," the cleaner accused, pressing the knives into Tom's chest enough to make a point. "They don't fear me anymore - they fear you."

"Me?" Tom scoffed. "Why me? What the Hell did I do?"

"That stunt you pulled in Harmony," the cleaner growled. "Everybody fears the miner now - not me! And without fear, I can't keep doing my job!"

"That wasn't me!" Tom hissed, shaking his head. "I didn't do it! I didn't kill those people!"

"No, but people think you did, and that's good enough… so I'll cut you a deal - you get them to fear me again, and maybe, just maybe, I won't play a nice game of slice and dice with your boyfriend."

"You touch him," Tom snarled as he shoved the man against a wall, holding him by the collar of the jumper. "You so much as look at him, and I will kill you!"

The man pressed his glove into Tom's stomach, only enough to make his point clear. "Then do what I want, and I'll leave him alone… c'mon, pretty boy."

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Name's Freddy," he grinned, shoving Tom off of him and grinning. "Freddy Krueger."

"You're the sick bastard who killed all those children," Tom breathed out, shaking his head. "You're dead! They burned your sorry ass to a crisp!"

"And yet, I'm their worst nightmare," Freddy chuckled. "C'mon, Tommy, you know what you have to do to protect your boyfriend… just put on the miner costume, head to Springwood, Ohio, and create a little fear in my name."

"And you'll leave my boyfriend alone?" Tom asked quietly.

Freddy nodded, using his knives to gently nick Tom's chest. "Do we have a deal?"

"Fine."

Sitting upright, Tom gasped loudly; his chest was heaving, his eyes wide and wild as he frantically looked around the room, not quite sure where he was for a moment until he laid eyes on you.

Sound asleep beside him, cuddled into his side and wearing one of his old zip up hoodies. Gently, Tom traced your jaw, and hummed as he spent a moment to calm himself down; it must have just been a bad dream, surely. He checked his chest, and when his fingers came away with slick red blood, he winced a little.

"Tom?" You murmured quietly, wearily looking up at him.

"I'm okay, baby," he said softly, gently kissing your forehead as he snuggled back down. "Just a little nightmare, that was all."

You hummed, cosying up to him as you yawned quietly. "You wanna talk about it?"

"I'm good," he told you, shaking his head. "Thanks…"

As he looked at you, Tom knew that he had to do everything possible to keep you safe and to protect you; he could already feel bile in his throat as he swallowed thickly, passing it off as a suppressed yawn. Fuck.

He felt awful already, knowing what he had to do, knowing that the only way to keep you safe was to become the very thing he swore he would never be.

But then… maybe it was just a nightmare, and maybe he just accidentally scratched himself while he was asleep and itched too hard. That was probably it. It was just a bad dream, and he had accidentally knocked himself a little.

"Tom?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you," you told him. "I wanna marry you."

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loveandmurders · 6 days

Text

Almost back

Hello everyone!

You have noticed the hiatus. I'll try to get back to my writing during the summer break.

Meanwhile I've got some stuff I haven't published yet so I will post them on here soon. It's not a lot, but it's still something!

I hope you'll enjoy. :)

Thank you so much for all the likes, reblogs and comments you left me during my absence. It really makes me happy <3

#blog status #slasher fandom #slasher writing

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slasherhoe87 · 1 year

Text

The Gift

Peepaw Michael Myers x GN Ghostface OC

MDNI

Warnings: Gore, Death, Murder etc

Note: Set during Halloween Kills - only difference is that the Johns do not live in Michael's childhood house. So all HK scenes in Michael's home plays out in another house owned by the Johns.

Blood soaked the ground of Haddonfield once more on this Halloween night.

It seeped into the asphalt of the roads, melted into the wood of aged floorboards, crept into the tiny crevices of tile and concrete, nourished the damp soil of the grass.

Michael stared down at the vacant eyes of his aggressors who littered the road around him - the ever hungry voices within his mind sated. Fat, full and quiet from the bountiful feast he had provided.

Fools the lot of them.

They should have known better.

Rage welled up within The Shape of Haddonfield knowing that he had only slaughtered one instigator of tonight's 'Kill Michael Club'.

Laurie Strode and her kin were still out there. Alive. Unacceptable.

Taking in a shaky and pain-filled breath, Michael took a wobbly step forward and gripped his knife tightly. The anger and frustration vibrating throughout his entire being.

Laurie still being alive was downright mockery at this point. How did she manage to evade death every time Michael finally had her in his clutches?

Michael grunted in both pain and frustration. Laurie can take a dive off a building, get hit by a car or eat his blade - he didn't care, he just wanted that bitch to stop breathing once and for all.

Well, if he couldn't end her ridiculous existence yet, he would hurt her so terribly that he'd break her spirit and heart, hopefully irreparably.

With a limp to his gait and wheezing breaths Michael stalked off towards the house where he had left Karen's daughter with a broken leg. Laurie Strode would die this night, not physically. But he would shatter her.

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Michael's eyes fluttered open. They felt heavy as if he had been drugged. He knew that feeling all too well after been locked up in an asylum for 40 years.

He looked around the room he was in, groggy and confused. He was in his parents' bedroom in his old house. The double bed he laid atop was dusty and moth eaten. The room was dark and smelled stale - it naturally would, after decades of decay and dormancy.

Had he dragged himself to his old home after killing Karen and Allyson? It concerned him that he couldn't remember.

Michael looked at the window which was slightly ajar, letting a breeze in to freshen and cool the room.

It was night - stars glittering and sky as inky black as ever. Yet when he stepped out of the house where Karen and Allyson's lifeless bodies lay the sky was tinged a pale orange and pink, indicating dawn was fast approaching.

Michael then noticed the next strange thing... his jumpsuit was pooled around his waist, his injuries bandaged and seen to. He looked to the old nightstand beside the bed and saw a glass of water and a bottle of Tramadol sitting there, along with a juice box, a store bought pre-packaged sandwich and a bag of mixed candies.

Now he knew why his injuries felt dulled, his head fuzzy and eyes heavy - he had been given pain medication.

Anger rose within him again. Who did this and why? And why couldn't he remember anything?

Who would want to aid the Boogeyman of Haddonfield? Curiosity swam around his mind as he sat up, wincing at the slight pull on a stitch from a particularly deep stab wound.

Hundreds of thoughts ran through Michael's mind as he reached for the candies.

Satisfaction was the leading feeling coursing through his veins. He had taken away the two most precious things in Laurie's life and for once, she could not stop it. Surely this would lead to her letting her guard down? Her motivation to carry on will have been quelled... perhaps she'd off herself and be done with it?

Michael would lay low for a while and then strike. He would not fail this time.

Just as Michael popped a candy corn into his mouth he heard a thud from downstairs which immediately caused him to stand and grab his knife which was also placed on the nightstand.

He perked his ears and tried to listen for any other sounds but all was quiet again - the house once again its ghostly self.

Slowly he crept out of his parents' bedroom and into the dark hallway. Seeing and hearing nothing out of the ordinary he made for the stairs intent on ending the life of whoever was in his home. He didn't care if it was his "savior", he didn't ask for or need any help and they would die just the same as all of his other victims.

As he stepped into the moonlit kitchen he spotted his mask, washed and sitting on the counter beside the sink. Michael made a beeline for his second skin. As he grabbed his mask and placed it over his head he let out a barely audible sigh of relief.

He had nearly lost his mask once already the previous night when Karen had stolen it and if it was truly lost to him he wasn't sure what he would do. The mask is as much a part of him as he is to it. Losing it would be losing a very substantial part of himself.

Something large and black catches his eye and he turns to face a body shaped thing in the middle of the kitchen floor wrapped in black giftwrap with red heart prints all over it. A big red bow sat atop its middle, practically begging to be undone.

Michael tilted his head to the side, studying the.... gift.

This must have been the thud he heard. Someone had deposited the body here and left as soon as it touched the floor.

He cautiously stepped forward and crouched down, sighing irritatedly at the popping sounds his aged knees produced.

Placing his knife beside him on the tiled floor he reached for the large obnoxious bow and began untying the ribbons. The more he handled the thing that was wrapped up the more he came to realize that yes, this was indeed an actual body.

Michael's body practically vibrated with curiosity and intrigue.

Clearly this was a gift for him. And again his mind ran with who and why.

With the bow and ribbons now off and chucked to the side he tentatively reached towards the clear strips of tape holding the giftwrap together along the center of the body and started ripping.

The first thing he saw was a blood soaked black blouse, a few buttons missing - having been ripped. Stab wounds gaped from the holes in the blouse and they looked very deep. The stabbings were clearly performed with a lot of force and emotion.

Michael began to pull the wrapping apart again higher towards the face and stopped dead in his ministrations as he came face to face with a now very dead Laurie Strode. His breath hitched and his eyes widened, he fell back onto his backside and took in deep labored breaths at the sight before him.

Thousands of thoughts and emotions ran through him like a freight train.

Laurie was dead.

Laurie Strode was dead.

Her lifeless eyes and bloodied and bruised face stared up at the kitchen ceiling and--- Michael did a double take... not eyes. Eye. He leaned forward and saw one eye was missing, entirely pulled out from its socket. He wondered if it was coincidence that it was her left eye that was missing - as she had damaged his own left eye so many years back.

Who had done this... for him. And why?

This person had succeeded where Michael had failed time and time again.

Michael didn't know whether to be impressed or pissed off.

He didn't care how Laurie died, he just wanted her gone. And now she was. But he had to admit he was ever so slightly peeved that he was not the one to witness the life being snuffed out of her eyes.

He rolled his shoulders and felt as though a weight had been lifted. The thorn in his side had finally been removed.

The woman with supernatural-like luck on her side was finally dead and soon to be buried.

For once in his life, Michael could say that he was feeling something pretty close to happy.

Before more thoughts pushed to the front of his mind the ringing of a phone rang out somewhere in the kitchen.

Swiftly standing, Michael spied a cellular phone lit up and buzzing on one of the counters in the kitchen.

He picked the black device up and squinted at the screen, just like with Karen's cellular phone when Laurie had called her after he had killed her, he didn't quite know how to use it. Did something as simple as a phone have to become so complicated?

Finally he managed to swipe the green button in the correct direction and brought the little piece of plastic hell to his mask covered ear. He didn't speak, but let his deep breathing indicate he was there and listening.

After a few beats of silence a distorted voice greeted Michael from the other end.

"Hello Michael"

Michael looked down at the gift that was Laurie's corpse before he focused back on the mysterious caller.

"Do you like my gift?" the distorted voice asked him in eager anticipation

With Michael feeling such elation at Laurie's death he decided to gift the killer on the other end of the line with using his voice. Something Michael had not done in years.

"Yes" came Michael's soft and raspy reply

The voice on the end's breath hitched and their breathing became noticeably heavier.

tap tap tap

Somewhat startled, Michael spun to face the direction the tapping had come from - the kitchen window.

"Boo!"

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Hope ya'll like.

Part 2? Yes/No?

#michael myers #peepaw michael myers #peepaw myers #halloween #halloween 2018 #halloween kills #ghostface #slasher #slasher fic #slasher writing #slasher x reader #slasher x you #slasher fucker #slasher lover #slasher fandom #horror #slasher community

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slasherstories123 · 8 months

Note

Think you can write where The female S/O dates Bo Sinclair, while being aware that Vincent was mesmerized by his twin brother's S/O girlfriend? She was sweet and kind to Vincent, but when she saw how cruel and heartless Bo was with his brother, and calling him a freak. When she stood up to Bo, he breaks up with her. Then near the end that Vincent actually gets a chance with the S/O that he loved. The S/O would be very complementive of his artwork

New beginning

Word count: 1.1k

Tagslist: @dootys @callmemeelah @fluffy-little-demon @mehidktbh @slash3rl0v3r @the-anxious-youth @beanbagbitch @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better @mrs-heelshire @oneofvincentscandles @sleepypersonblog @alexxavicry @beel-mcburger @slasherscrybaby @sadskies @bunnysenpai31 @emychan @pink-apollo @misscaller06 @l0sercat @naxxsstuff @charliedawn

You and Bo have been dating only for a few months, but you paid attention to his twin's eyes in the back. Always watching, practically mesmerized by you. He wanted you, but Bo got to you instead, even then, you still treated Vincent the same. Always tending to his wounds during a bad fight with a victim and just caring for him in general. You always thought they were the complete opposite on many levels. You didn’t mind, until Bo would become more cold hearted towards his own brother. Always calling him names and makes him feel more bad than he already does. It pained you to see him like this, but you never said anything,not feeling like getting yelled at, secretly comforting Vincent when you had the chance. You never wanted him to feel bad, even apologizing for Bo’s actions to the man.

Vincent forgave you, always telling you it’s not your fault, that’s just how he is, and he’ll always be like that. As much as you hated to admit it, he was right. How can he be so flirty towards you but turn around and treat his brother like trash. His family. You hated it, even if you did try to talk about it he’d blow a fuse thinking you’re just taking his side. Which is half true. Vincent always works hard in taking care of victims, always cooped up in the basement and getting hurt when victims come, he deserves to be treated fairly, just like Bo.

One night, you’ve had enough. Bo's loud voice nearly shook the house as he yelled at his brother for coming back home late.It was bad enough he was in a bad mood due to a victim hurting his arm. You rubbed your temple to try and calm yourself down, hating it when he yelled, wondering how he doesn’t get sore throats. Each word that came out of his mouth was painful, even you could feel it, seeing Vincent sulk his head in shame.

The next words that came out of his mouth made you freeze. “You’re nothing but a freak! Get the hell out of my sight!” You stood up from your chair and slapped Bo dead in his face, causing his baseball cap to fall off. The slap caught the attention of both men. He looked at you in shock, but it quickly turned into anger. “The hell you do that for?” He yelled.

Even Vincent was shocked himself, but still stayed in the near corner. “Are you fucking serious Bo? That’s your brother! Your TWIN brother! Besides Lester and I, he’s all you have! You can’t treat him like dirt!” The angry man turned to you, yelling at you now. Vincent wanted to stay, but he decided not to, slowly sliding away and going down to his basement. You kept going at each other's throats, almost like a yelling contest, seeing who could be louder. You stood up for Vincent until the end, cursing at bo, saying how horrible of a brother he is to Vincent.

“He’s your BROTHER Bo!”

“Yeah? So what if the freaks my brother?”

“Your words can affect him! Don’t you realize that?!”

“Well if you like the freak so bad then go be with him then! This stupid relationship is over!”

He yelled in your face before storming off, door slamming behind him. You leaned against the table. Sitting down in the chair, body shaking due to too many emotions now coming at you: Anger, sadness, guilt, remorse. You had your face in your arms, tears of frustration built up in your eyes. Bo’s words cut deep, even to you, and he barely said anything to you, but it still hurt, hurts to know that he broke up with you because you decided to stick up for Vincent, it meant nothing,just wanting him to treat his brother fairley, like he’s a human being.

You never questioned why Vincent wears his mask, but you know it’s something personal and that Bo of all people should respect that, but he didn’t, and now you’re caught in this mess. You don’t regret sticking up for him though. It was worth it. But now you’d slowly have to put yourself back together. Despite Bo being a jerk to his brother.. He was still somewhat charming, but you still chose him, Vincent always watched you from afar, admired you, sometimes you think he was sad that you chose Bo over him. Sometimes, you even wonder what you see in him to make you fall in love with him. A soft tap of a shoulder caused you to flinch, picking your head up, it was just Vincent. He had a sketchbook in his hands. Sitting by you, he saw a tear escape your eyes. Slowly raising his hand to wipe it away, you smiled at the gesture.

“I’m.. so sorry you had to hear that..” The man shook his head in response, gently taking your hand with his soft ones. Guiding you to his basement, you didn’t have the strength to even say no. Letting him guide you to his area. It was clean, everything organized. The smell of vanilla candles filled the air, it was comforting. You sat in a chair next to an empty one where he sits by his desk. Vincent eventually sat down. Fiddling with a few pages with the sketchbook. He turned to a certain one, you leaned by his shoulder to look. It was you.

You knew Vincent was good with art, but you never knew how good he can look at your features in his drawings. Even showing little dates of when the art was completed. You were mesmerized yourself, it probably took him hours to make them, realizing that he had thoughts of you. He always had. Despite you being with Bo he stood around. He let you look, there were times you were completely doing nothing, he still drew you like you were the most perfect woman he’s ever laid eyes on. Not missing any sort of detail in your features.

It made you feel a certain way, despite you crying your eyes out a few minutes ago. “Thank you..Vincent. I love it. I love them all. You’re always so talented..” He loved it when you complimented his work, since he works so hard on them. You can’t help but admire his work, the time and effort he puts into each drawing, each sculpture, each painting, but he drew you, his sketchbook was filled with you. You felt at peace down in the basement with him, you always did, but this time it was different.

You felt comforted. Safe. Resting your head on his shoulder, feeling his hand hold yours, rubbing the back of it. Maybe being with Vincent was the best choice from the beginning. You’ll be happier with the man. A new beginning.

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slxsherwriter · 5 months

Text

The Little Wheel Squeals

Fandom: Joy Ride

Pairing: Rusty Nail x reader

Word Count: 1,768

Warnings: None

Author's note: Part one of the Nanowrimo fics that I am attempting. The next part in my Rusty Nail series. Hope everyone enjoys. As always, not Beta read.

A heavy sigh escaped you as the last remnants of glass were swept up and into the dust bin, to be tossed away and forgotten. A reminder that while you were mostly alone out here, you weren't completely alone. Being on your own didn't bother you, after all you knew that Rusty needed to be on the road for extended periods of time. It was just what the job was. Nothing that he could be faulted for or have held against him. You had known that at the very start, plenty of life experience telling you that it was something that you could handle. But it was moments like these, when idiots decided to break in, thinking that no one was home or that the house was abandoned, that being on your own felt a little unnerving and had you longing for the moment that Rusty was walking back through that door.

You had been home this time when the window had smashed, the sound reaching you upstairs, where the knock had not. Immediately, you had been concerned and reached for the bat that had been insisted upon for protection in his absence. They hadn't been a very difficult group to deal with, actually for the most part not looking to cause any trouble. Simply looking for help, which you were happy to give. Even if the one guy in the group caused you to feel uneasy. A feat that took a lot given your typical generous, forgiving nature. Something had just seemed off about him, causing you to keep the bat close while you allowed them to use the phone to call out for someone to pick them up. Their car had broken down at some point miles up the road and they had been wandering since.

The story was believable. It happened more often than not around here since your home was situated in nearly the middle of nowhere. Rusty had told after he had first shown you the house that he had picked the spot because of the land and the privacy. It was an oasis, a place to go away from people and away from the mess of being on the road. A concept that was easy to digest and something that could be understood on a deep level. After all, when your father had come home, he had said the same thing. Apparently though, more stragglers than anticipated tended through the area.

Still, you had taken to the home, not quite moving in but spending far more time at his place than your own, which was technically the next state over. You occasionally would head home on weekends, especially ones that he worked. The old house was not something that you could bring yourself to get rid of and debated asking Rusty to move out with you. It wasn't quite as isolated but it was a piece of paradise all on it's own. The thought of the conversation once again swirled before being tossed to the side for later examination.

Seeing them picked up and head off had a relief washing over you, enough so to make you sag back against the porch for just a second. There was work that needed to be done. Namely, cleaning up the rest of the broken glass and finish patching up what you could of the window until there was a new one delivered. Windows were always a pain in the ass.

As the glass hit the bottom of the can, you were greeted with the sound of a deep rumbling engine. Rusty was home. All the worry from before, the agitation, and concern over the man that had made you feel uneasy melted away. He was finally home.

Moving to the front door to greet him, you watched as his shoulders dropped from where they had been tensed, how his fingers unfurled, hands hanging loosely at his sides for a moment, and a small, genuine smile come to his face. Whether he realized you were there or not yet remained unknown, but you took in the moment to appreciate the fact that he was finally relaxing.

"Welcome home," you finally offered as you moved over without any prompting and wrapped your arms around him. Road grim be damned, you needed a shower anyway.

"Hey, sweetheart." The words came out in that comforting rumble that had you closing your eyes before you could help it. The heavy, familiar weight of his arm dropping to your shoulders was an added bonus as he hugged you back. "Missed you."

"Missed you too. Trip was too long this time." As much as you wanted to agree, there was also a fear of him interpreting it as a concern about his occupation.

"It was a long one this time. But you're home now and that is what matters." You sighed softly as you took a deep breath in. "Why don't you go shower up and I'll get something thrown together for you to eat." You would ask him about the plans for the evening after that, letting him get in the door and truly relaxed after it all. Which meant cleaned up with a proper shower and a good meal that wasn't from a truck stop diner.

"Sounds like a plan to me, sweetheart." He pressed a kiss to your cheek before stepping back. Jacket on the hook and boots off, he headed towards the bathroom, entirely missing the broken window that you still had to finish at least patching up so nothing could get through it and into the house during the night. Both animals and insects. Food for Rusty first.

You were finishing with the little makeshift board when he came wandering back into the room, smelling of his eucalyptus shower gel and something else. Without the hat on, his eyes were clear and obviously focused right on you.

"What happened?" That hard edge that he was careful to keep from you came out. Always the protective one. "And when?"

"This evening. Small group came around, thinking that no one was home. They needed to call for help. Let them use the phone after everything was explained and they headed off maybe about an hour before you got home?" You watched as something changed, the tension in his jaw obvious from the clench. All before it vanished. "It wasn't anything too bad. They are gone and it's over." there seemed to be gears turning as his eyes jumped from you to look around the room. Or a simple method of calming himself down.

"You sure?"

"Watched them drive off myself. Made the one that offered to stay behind for the tow truck go right along with them and had the bat at my side the entire time."

"That's a good girl." The praise sent a little warmth through you but now was not the time.

"Come on, eat your food before it gets cold. Then, can we just watch a movie and fall asleep on the couch?" You just wanted to be close, feeling him against you, smell him. Be encompassed by his presence in every sense possible. Rusty was safety and had been that since he had first picked you up on the side of the road. And you were admittedly still feeling a little off. Not a fact that you wanted to disclose to the man. The anger disappeared after a long second before he was walking over to you and his warm lips met your forehead.

"Course, darling. If that's what you want, that's what we will do."

"Only after you eat." Wanting to make sure he was taken care of, you had to insist that he ate before anything else. He glanced at the plate before chuckling softly.

"How about this? We curl up on the couch, and I eat while having you laying against me?" That impossibly large hand that you loved, pressed against your hip though he didn't move to bring you any closer together.

"I think I can settle on that compromise." Leaning up, your lips brushed over his cheek this time, a gentle affection that you were happy to shower the man in since he did it in return.

"Good. Go turn on the TV and find something to watch. I'll be right there." He used the touch that he had on you to send you off towards the living room. All would be right in the world with a night of snuggling close to your man. You made sure to stop at the closet and grab that worn blanket that was just perfect for the cooler nights. Though Rusty was practically a human furnace. Still, it was fun to have you both under it and cuddled together. It gave that nice cozy feeling that could put you right to sleep, no matter what was happening around you or had happened.

Settling on the couch, it only took Rusty an additional two minutes to join you, a plate of chicken and potatoes piled practically sky high. Oh yeah, he was fine and hadn't needed dinner at all. You could have laughed at the portions, but then again, he was a big man. You pulled the blanket back, knowing that he would need to eat before he could get under it, least anything ended up on it.

There was a relieved groan as he settled back into the worn couch, kicking his legs out in front of him.

"Anything else happen while I was away?" You shook your head.

"No, it was pretty quiet. I honestly thought I was going to get away with no one showing up before you got home from this trip." Reaching out, your hand lightly rubbed the back of his neck while he began to eat.

"Shouldn't have been anyone at all." You laughed softly.

"Kinda hard to be in a spot where no one else exists. We are pretty close for the most part." He grunted around a mouthful of potato but didn't say anything else about it. Neither did you, choosing to let him eat the remainder of the meal in silence.

The plate had barely hit the table beside the couch when he had his arm around you. The familiar weight and warmth immediately had you melting against him, shifting and resting your head against his shoulder. Smiling to yourself, you felt truly at ease for the first time all day.

"Comfortable?"

"Never been better." A low rumbling laugh left him and you felt a kiss pressed to the top of your head.

"Can't say I can complain about a homecoming like this."

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